


it's been a long year (since we last spoke)

by theappleppielifestyle



Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Post-Civil War (Marvel), and then he kicks the skrull's ass, brief non-con when tony makes out with a skrull who he thinks is steve, then he realizes it's not steve and theres some icky touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theappleppielifestyle/pseuds/theappleppielifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gets sent the link to a video of Tony kissing a Skrull that looks like Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's been a long year (since we last spoke)

**Author's Note:**

> HOW DID I START WRITING ALL THIS COMIC!STEVETONY. 
> 
> Also, yeah, Tony makes out with a Skrull, discovers it's a Skrull, said Skrull touches Tony's dick a couple of times but it isn't graphic. But it is hella creepy.

There’s one last email in Steve’s inbox, and it’s a link to a video.

He doesn’t recognize the email address, but he doesn’t recognize half of the SHIELD staff nowadays, they’ve had to haul new ones in from other cities ever since the Helicarrier crash. Apparently the video is important, and Steve has finished all his other paperwork, and after he clicks on the video link then he gets to go to bed and sleep until someone calls with a new mission.

Which, he reflects, shouldn’t be long. It seems they’re always calling him, always supplying him with some other disaster he needs to get control of.

With a sigh, he clicks on the link, expecting a mass shooting or some supervillian talking about his latest plot, but what he gets is Tony Stark chained to the wall by his wrists, two Skrulls flanking him, both armed with whatever alien tech is popular nowadays.

Steve frowns, checking- the feed isn’t live, it’s from several days ago. He hasn’t heard about Tony getting kidnapped, and even though they aren’t talking right now- aren’t even friends anymore, not since Steve nearly beat Tony to death with his shield and got shot by the Red Skull only to wake up months later- but Steve would think he’d hear about it if Tony got kidnapped.

Onscreen, one of the Skrulls tell Tony to shut up, and hits him in the knee with the butt of his gun. Tony sneers at him, and Steve can’t help the reluctant pride- Tony always was a fighter, it was one of things that Steve-

He shakes the thought off, and just as he does, someone familiar crashes through the door and takes out both the Skrulls with one punch each, cracking their head open against the wall that they are propelled back into.

“Steve,” Tony says, and Steve blinks at the screen where a perfect replica of himself- but not him, surely, it can’t be him, Steve would remember- walks over to Tony and yanks the cuffs away from the wall so Tony’s hands are freed.

“Are you okay,” Not-Steve asks, and Tony stares. “Are you hurt,” Not-Steve prompts, and Tony blinks hard, shakes his head.

“I’m, I’m fine. Why are you-”

“I heard about you being taken,” Not-Steve says, slinging his shield around to his back. “I came as fast as I could.”

“ _Why_ ,” Tony asks, blatantly confused, and then clears his throat. “We aren’t- we aren’t on speaking terms, Steve. The last time I saw you was at a meeting nine weeks ago, you didn’t look at me the whole time.”

“You didn’t look at _me_ the whole time,” Not-Steve says, and frowns. It does look like him, Steve thinks. It even has his mannerisms perfected. “You really thought I wouldn’t come and get you if I knew you were kidnapped?”

Steve would, he knows. The Steve on the screen is an imposter, or a clone, or god knows what, but Steve can imagine saying that to Tony, in that exact tone.

“I,” Tony says, and doesn’t continue, and it’s as good as a ‘no.’

Not-Steve realizes this, and sighs. “Tony,” he says, and hesitates before moving forwards. They’re already close, so this puts them almost chest to chest. Tony jolts, starts to move back, but Not-Steve catches his cheek in his hand.

It’s a startlingly intimate gesture, and Steve almost expects Tony to throw a punch. This isn’t something you do with your friend, especially one who you haven’t been speaking to for close to a year now.

Not-Steve rubs his thumb down Tony’s cheek, his eyes soft in a way that Steve has never seen himself, has only ever directed it at someone else. It looks- not strange, but out of place.

“I’ve always cared about you, Tony,” Not-Steve says. “I always will. Even after all that’s happened. Remember that.”

Tony’s breathing is shallow, his chest moving in sharp bursts against Not-Steve’s, and he stays shock-still as the other man begins to lean in.

Steve wonders distantly if this is porn with actors that they’ve digitalized to look like him and Tony, and watches their lips meet with a feeling in his chest he can’t identify. Tony- still isn’t punching Not-Steve, hasn’t put up a fight or asked why the hell they were making out in a dungeon with a dead Skrull on either side of them, and Steve waits for a reaction.

He gets one.

Tony _reacts_ , gripping Not-Steve’s uniform tight in his hands and angling his head to get a better angle, and Not-Steve smiles against his mouth.

“There we go,” he murmurs as Tony gasps and bites his bottom lip. “Ah- there we go, Tony, always care about you, Tony, always, I’m so glad you’re okay, we can fix things now, it’s all going to be okay now.”

Not-Steve’s hand presses down on Tony’s hip, and Tony- god, Tony looks _ravaged_ , still kissing despite his bloody lip, making high, desperate sounds and clutching Not-Steve’s uniform as if he can tug him closer than he already is.

“Always cared about you, Tony, always will-”

Tony whimpers, and Not-Steve kisses his neck and says, “Forgive you, how can I not, I love you, Tony-”

The instant the words reach him, Tony freezes. Steve watches Not-Steve notice and start to pull back before Tony punches Not-Steve across the face.

His fist impacts Not-Steve’s cheek with a crack that has got to hurt Tony’s hand, and Tony’s snarling, “Steve Rogers would never say either of those things to me,” and then he’s ducking down to reach for one of the dead Skrull’s gun.

He doesn’t make it, instead he’s pinned to the wall by his wrists by someone who is definitely Not Steve, who is laughing over his own bloody lip. He shoves Tony against the wall hard enough that Tony shouts, and Steve tenses as he watches his face light up with pain.

Not-Steve’s skin shimmers, a full-body thing that goes green in its wake before he’s back to an exact replica of Steve again. “You’re struggling awfully hard,” Skrull-Steve says, tapping Tony’s wrists thoughtfully before leaning in to ghost the words across Tony’s face, “for someone who wants it so much.”

“Fuck you,” Tony spits, and then actually spits. He misses, the Skrull moves too fast. “Fuck you, how dare you wear his face-”

“You seem to like it well enough,” Skrull-Steve says, and then he grinds his hips forwards.

Steve can’t mistake that for anything other than what it is- on the screen, Tony tips his head back and groans, a short, throaty thing that he tries to smother, before Skrull-Steve laughs again.

Tony kicks him in the balls, and Steve has a vicious pleasure in watching his own face clench up in pain, Skrull-Steve doubling over but not letting go of Tony’s wrists. Tony kicks again and Skrull-Steve kicks back, and Tony cries out.

Skrull-Steve shoves forwards, so his whole body is covering Tony’s. “You always were a fighter, Tony,” he pants. “I always did love that about you.”

Steve’s chest constricts at the cut-off thought from earlier being vocalized, and then watches as the Skrull version of himself laughs, and then kisses Tony. It’s hardly a kiss, Tony tries to bite his mouth and not in a good way, and Skrull-Steve pulls back with his lips even more bloody.

Tony’s eyes are full of revulsion as he says, “Don’t talk to me like you’re him.”

“Oh?” Skrull-Steve cocks his head, a twisted version of what Steve does when he’s feeling playful. “You’d rather me tell you about the sins of your ways, how badly you’ve failed me? What a shell of a hero you turned out to be, what a disappointment-”

“Stop,” Tony grits, and Skrull-Steve grins. Steve is sure he’s never grinned like that.

“So you admit you’d rather this,” Skrull-Steve says, and then he reaches down between their bodies. Steve can’t see what he’s doing, and he’s rather grateful for it because Tony starts groaning again, whining through his teeth and clearly trying to stop. He twist his head so he can’t see Skrull-Steve, struggling and squirming and trying to kick but failing.

Steve has looked in the mirror and not liked what he’s seen, but this- this makes him _seethe_.

“I could get you off, wearing this face,” Skrull-Steve croons as Tony tries to jerk away from him, trying to get as far away as he can while still being held fast against the bricks.

“God knows you’ve thought about it,” he continues, and Steve can see a lot of things on Tony’s face- arousal, disgust, rage, guilt- but can’t see anything to indicate Skrull-Steve is doing anything but telling the truth.

Skrull-Steve pauses, and then ducks to press a bloody kiss into Tony’s neck.

Tony squirms again, and Skrull-Steve laughs into his neck, kisses it again and says the next words into the skin: “Everyone can tell.”

He drags blood across Tony’s neck, trailing kisses. “Everyone sees how you look at him, HE sees how you look at him, even if he didn’t notice then someone must’ve told him by now. He knows, Tony, he’s just too disgusted to bring it up. He might, now, add another thing to your failings.”

Tony’s eyes are blank now, blank in a way that Steve knows he’s switching himself off. He’s not doing a very good job of it.

“But I think he pities you too much, so maybe he won’t,” Skrull-Steve continues, and this time he bites and then stays there, sucking until a mark rises. “That’ll bruise,” Skrull-Steve remarks, and then brings his face close so they’re nose to nose.

“Look at me,” Skrull-Steve says, and when Tony screws his eyes up, Skrull-Steve digs a finger into his arm until he cries out and opens his eyes.

“You love him so much you ache, all along, despite everything,” Skrull-Steve hisses, and then grinds his hips again so Tony whimpers. “You ACHE for it, for him, always have, you’re pathetic and I know it, he knows it, why not just take this? This one time, you’re never going to get it with the real thing, you know that. You’ve always known that, and it’s especially never going to happen now, now when he hates you like he does.”

He breathes in Tony’s face, smiles and twists Tony’s face so he is forced to look in his eyes. “You’re never going to touch him again, not going to squeeze his shoulder, not going to brush your knee with his on the couch, he’s never going to spar with you again. And oh, if he knew why you really wanted to spar with him, adding fantasies to use when you’re alone and lonely at night, all those late-night touches, god, what would your sweet Captain think about that-”

Tony continues to squirm, continues to fight, tries to kick and punch as he’s held still against the wall.

Skrull-Steve chuckles at the obvious effort, and Steve is reminded at how many times he’s told Tony he needs to train more, needs to be prepared for when he’s caught out of the suit.

“You’re pathetic, Tony. You make me sick,” Skrull-Steve says, and it sounds like a slap coming from the mouth Steve sees in the mirror, the voice from his mouth. “You want this, we both know it. You’re so pathetic you’d take this, you’d love to get fucked by someone wearing his face, you’d take it and you’d love it, because you know it’s all you’re ever going to get, and when you’re alone at night you can pretend he actually-”

Tony lunges, sinking his teeth into the Skrull’s neck, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to dislodge flesh. He draws back and spits it into the Skrull’s face as he screams and stumbles back, and Tony dives for the dead Skrull’s gun again. He scrabbles, locks his hand around it and shoots Skrull-Steve in the leg, which gives him enough time to sprint around him and out the door.

Steve watches numbly as Tony takes out several more Skrull before War Machine bursts through a wall and grabs Tony, Rhodey’s modulated voice coming through the speakers, asking if Tony’s hurt-

“I’m fine,” Tony snaps. “Let’s get-”

The video ends, and Steve is left staring at the black screen and his own horrified reflection that he cringes away from. He gets the feeling he isn’t going to be looking into many mirrors anytime soon.

He feels sick to his stomach, the images still fresh in his mind.

God. _God_. He just watched Tony get violated, watched as a twisted version of himself touched him and held him as he struggled-

Steve lurches to his feet, gets down in front of a wastebin, but he doesn’t vomit. He stays there, dry-leaving a couple of times before staying there on his hands and knees as his mind whirls.

He wonders distantly if the Skrull- his Skrull- died when War Machine wrecked the place. He hopes he did, hopes he died slowly and painfully, choking on his own damn blood. Steve’s going to be checking up on their new prisoners, he’s decided.

That part, he figures, is easy. But Tony-

Tony. Jesus. What did that Skrull say? ‘You love him so much you ache, all along, despite everything.’ There’s no other way to interpret that- Tony’s been in love with him for years, god knows how many, has loved him through the war, through Steve’s death and everything. He’s been in love with Steve even longer than Steve’s been in love with Tony, which- god, Steve can’t even remember anymore, it might’ve been six years, maybe five.

Ever since Steve came back, Tony had hardly looked at him, didn’t spare him the time of day, and Steve had assumed that Tony didn’t want anything to do with him. Which, fair enough, at first Steve was angry enough he was willing to accept that.

He remembers Pepper yelling at him, yelling _, he would forgive you for anything,_ and remembers thinking _apparently not, since he hasn’t forgiven me for this, the man hasn’t talked to me since I got brought back to life. What kind of friend does that?_

One who’s in pain, Steve realizes. The thing that Skrull was saying, and the look in Tony’s eyes that meant he didn’t deny it- Tony thinks so little of himself, he probably thought Steve would try to deck him if he ever tried to patch things up.

_Up to me, then_ , Steve thinks. He can’t deal with the- other things, at the moment. But damn it if he isn’t going to get his best friend back, and then-

And then they’ll see where it goes, if Tony’s willing.

Only if Tony’s willing.

Steve’s hands tighten on the carpet, and he gets up shakily to check their prison registry for a Skrull who has a bite taken out of his neck.

 

 

Tony jumps when Steve taps him on the shoulder, and Steve can’t help but look at his neck- either the hickey healed, or he’s covering it up with makeup.

Tony turns, and then his face goes shuttered when he sees who it is.

“Hi,” Steve says, and suddenly his entire speech just- leaves his head. Gone. Vamoosed. He’s left with nothing but Tony staring at him like he’s prepared for a fight to the death, and has accepted than he is going to lose. “I thought we should talk.

Steve doesn’t miss the suspicious glance before Tony looks back to his tablet. “What about?”

“Us,” Steve says, and Tony’s fingers stumble over the screen, so Steve clarifies: “Our friendship. I’d- I’d like it back. I’d like to be friends again, if you want.”

Tony stares, and Steve remembers how he stared at Skrull-Steve, that blank disbelief sitting heavily on his face.

“We’ve wasted too much time, I think,” Steve says. “Being mad at each other.”

“You’re not mad anymore?”

“I’m plenty mad,” Steve says. “But all that can wait. Right now, I just want- I want-” He sighs, sitting down next to Tony, who holds his tablet like it’s a lifeline. “We were friends for a decade, Tony. You were one of the most important people in my life. I want that back.”

Tony’s throat clicks. He had started looking at Steve halfway through Steve’s last sentence, and now he looks like he’s regretting it. “I do, too,” he says, and then swallows again, looking back at his tablet. “Um. I didn’t expect you to- I’m busy for the next week, booked solid.”

“We can do something the week after,” Steve says. “Movie night?”

“With the team?”

“With anyone who wants to watch,” Steve shrugs, trying so hard for casual but probably ending up with desperate, “but with just us, for starters.”

“Just us,” Tony repeats, still staring like a deer about to be pummelled by a car.

Steve sighs inwardly. It’s a start.

 

 

 

The thing is, Tony is always suspicious.

Not even about Steve’s identity- just about _people_ , in general. It’s gotten so much worse since Steve stopped hanging around with him, back then it was just disbelief that people genuinely want to spend time with him, but now it’s suspicion.

“Everyone has an ulterior motive,” Tony had told him once, back when Steve didn’t know he was Iron Man and liked him anyway.

“I don’t,” Steve says. “I just like watching movies with my pal, Tony.”

Tony had given him the side-eye, and Steve hadn’t thought any of it, then.

He thinks a lot about it now, whenever Tony hesitates before agreeing to plans, like he’s absorbing the shock of being invited. Whenever Tony looks surprised when Steve shows up to the diner, or the museum, or the park. Whenever Tony gives him a quick look out of the corner of his eye, like he’s wondering what Steve is even doing here.

It’s gotten worse, since Steve stopped seeing Tony.

He wonders how long it’s going to take before Tony stops looking shocked that Steve turned up.

 

 

 

One night Steve carries Tony to bed and Tony doesn’t look at him like he thinks Steve is going to murder him with an axe.

“You should get more sleep,” Steve says, and Tony sniffs into his pillow.

“You’ve been telling me that for years.”

“And I’m gonna keep at it until you do,” Steve says. “Don’t think you can duck out of this one, mister.”

_I’m not leaving_ , he wants to say, but doesn’t. He says it in his head anyway, until it beats a tattoo against the roof of his mouth. _I’m not leaving, I won’t leave you, I’m sorry I was stupid enough to do it last time_.

 

 

 

They don’t talk about is the Civil War. They try once, and Steve punches a wall.

Tony jumps when he does, and Steve thinks for an awful second that he’s put them right back where they started, and Tony tries to leave but Steve stops him.

“Wait,” Steve says. “Wait, I don’t- I’m so _angry_ at you, but please don’t leave.”

Tony whirls around and stares, some of the old pissed-off passion in his eyes, and Steve’s missed this, he’s missed Tony looking fired up. Lately he’s looked like a ghost, curling in on himself and fading into the couch.

But then it’s gone, and Tony’s wilting again. “Why.” He says it like he’s tired. He probably is. There wasn’t anyone to make him go to sleep in his meeting in Moscow, Steve assumes.

“This is going to happen,” Steve says. “We’re going to get pissed off and we’re going to shout, but we don’t leave. Neither of us leave, okay? We just- we put it on hold.”

“Put it on hold,” Tony repeats dully.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “We go to our beds and we get up the next morning and be pissed off at each other and then one of us says something funny and the next minute we’re laughing again.”

Tony sighs, scraping his hand over his forehead. “This isn’t like before, Steve-”

“I know it’s not,” Steve snaps, and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before letting go. “I know it isn’t, but can’t we just- can’t we-”

“Your hand is bleeding,” Tony points out, and Steve looks down at it. Huh.

“So it is,” Steve says. “Let’s go get me bandaged up.”

Tony makes a face that reminds him so much of the old days that Steve almost grins. “Steve, I’ve seen you ‘walk off’ stomach wounds.”

“Let’s go get me bandaged up,” Steve repeats. “We can talk about what movie we’re going to see.”

Tony sighs, but follows him.

 

 

 

Carol suggests they spar, since Tony’s been out of shape recently, and both Steve and Tony pause in what they’re doing.

Steve- Steve’s been having his own late nights, lately, when he thought about having Tony underneath him, but he tries to keep this out of his voice when he says, “I could spare a few hours today.”

They end up going through their old exercises, and they fall back into sparring like long-time long-lost lovers fall into bed.

“Say uncle,” Steve says, and Tony’s laughing underneath him, laughter that shakes Steve’s chest along with his, and Steve realizes he hasn’t heard Tony laugh in- god, since he came back. Since before that, even, since before the Civil War.

“Geddoff,” Tony wheezes, breathless from laughter and fighting. “Get off, you big-”

His feet kick the mat, and Steve tenses. Tony kicked on the video, when-

Steve rolls off of Tony so fast Tony is left lying there for several seconds before sitting up and looking around for Steve.

“Steve?” Tony gets up when he sees Steve’s expression. “Steve, what’s-”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “I didn’t- are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tony says slowly, suspicion creeping in again. “Are _you_?”

“I didn’t want to bring back any bad memories,” Steve says. “Of- of the war, or- the Skrull. I didn’t want to remind you of anything- bad.”

Tony’s face has closed off again, flat and awful. “What Skrull?”

“Tony, I saw the video,” Steve says. “Someone emailed it to me, they-”

“There was a video.”

“I deleted it.”

Tony’s expression is tight and blank. Steve sees his jaw flutter. “But you saw it. How much did you see.”

_More than enough_. “I saw-” Steve swallows, trying to stop the flow of images. “Uh, the Skrull. Who pretended he was me. And what he- what he said to you. I saw you get away.”

Tony’s laugh this time is fractured. “So, all of it.”

“All of it,” Steve agrees. “Tony, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, turning around as he says it. “Thanks. I’m going to-”

“Don’t go,” Steve blurts, and Tony’s footsteps stutter. “Please.”

“There’s nothing more to say,” Tony snaps, turning on him. “You saw-”

He shudders, a small thing, but there in the line of his shoulders before he braces them. “You saw, he repeats. “And you heard.”

Steve opens his mouth, but Tony talks over him: “I’ll be submitting my resignation from the Avengers this evening.”

“Resignation,” Steve repeats. “Wait- Tony, you don’t have to quit, I’d never make you do that.”

Confusion flits across Tony’s face. “But,” he says. “You heard.”

“I did. And- and I’m so sorry he violated you like that, no-one deserves that and I wish I could’ve-” Steve stops, squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again to Tony standing in front of him. “Tony, the things he said- I didn’t know. I never knew, you never told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He answers his own question a second later, and has to close his eyes for this one, too. “You thought I’d say no. That I’d be disgusted you even thought about it.”

Tony is looking at the ground now, examining the wooden planks, and Steve reaches out only for Tony to jerk away from him.

Steve lowers his hand. “I’m not disgusted, Tony.”

“Why not,” Tony asks the ground. “You found out that someone you've been friends with for more than a decade has been jerking off to thoughts of you sparring with him.'

He meets Steve’s eyes for that, and it’s Steve’s turn to flinch. “That’s not all he said,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “He- Tony, he said you’ve been in love with me for just as long.”

“All the more reason for you to kick me off the team.”

“You’re not getting kicked off the team, stop suggesting it,” Steve sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Would you just- you should’ve told me, god, at some point you should’ve told me, we had years. Even if I rejected you, you should’ve told me, we could’ve-”

Steve wets his lips out of nerves. “We could’ve-”

He hadn’t planned on this, he had a speech for this, too, and he wasn’t supposed to tell Tony now, but Tony always had a way of making Steve change his plans. Of throwing Steve’s entire life out of whack, of making Steve feel more than anyone ever did, of tilting Steve’s entire life on an axis and shaking it like a ragdoll-

Tony’s staring again, his lips parted on a question he can’t bring himself to ask, and Steve steels himself.

“We could’ve gotten together a long time ago,” he finishes, and Tony continues to stare blankly, like he isn’t even hearing Steve.

When seconds pass and Tony hasn’t done more than blinked, Steve reaches out again. When his hand squeezes Tony’s shoulder, Tony doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t move. He just stands there, staring at Steve’s face.

“Tony,” Steve tries. “Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you,” Tony says, distant, his lips barely forming the words.

That’s the last thing Steve hears before Tony reaches down to grab a barbell and slams it across the side of Steve’s head.

 

 

 

 

When Steve wakes up to a white ceiling, he sighs. Medical was never his favourite place to be, and it doesn’t take long to figure out why he’s here, when he muddles through the grogginess.

“Where is he,” Steve asks, slinging his legs over the side of the bed, and Carol points to the door.

“He left when he saw you waking up. Glad you’re actually you, by the way. Tony sounded pretty convinced, said you were saying all sorts of weird stuff. What’d you say, anyway?”

“Something completely sane,” Steve sighs. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find him.”

“Good luck,” Carol calls, and Steve yells, “Thanks, I need it,” back at her.

Steve looks in the workshop, in the lounge, and finally in Tony’s bedroom, where Tony is in the bathroom, shaving.

He puts down the razor when he sees Steve, clearing the shaving cream off his face with a towel.

“I’m not a damn skrull,” Steve says, and Tony turns to him.

“And now I know. We also tested you for other things, and apparently you’re fine. You’re you. Not under any influence. It’s just you in there.”

He’s jiggling his foot, Steve notices. He’s stopped doing that, hasn’t done if for years, but Tony’s jiggling his foot against the tile. He’s also tapping his fingers erratically, his nails making noise on the counter, and Steve walks close enough that he can put his hands over Tony’s tapping fingers.

Tony looks at him, fearful and suspicious and Steve would back away if he knew it wouldn’t make things a hundred times worse.

“We could’ve had years of- us,” Steve says quietly. “But I’d settle for having it from here on out.”

Tony licks his lips. His eyes dart to the shower, the sink, everywhere he can before finally settling on Steve’s face. “You’re serious.”

“I am. Please don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“No promises,” Tony says, his smile tugging down on one side like he’s holding back tears. “You know how I am.”

“I do,” Steve nods. “And I love you. May I hug you?”

“May I hug you,” Tony mutters, trying to sound mocking but mostly sounding choked. “Sure, go ahead.”

Steve’s arms have always fit around Tony easily, but he feels like there was more of Tony the last time he hugged him. “You need to eat more, mister.”

Tony laughs, a sharp, bubbly laugh that ends in a sob, and Steve hugs him tighter and rests his chin on Tony’s shoulder as Tony cries into his.

It takes a while, but eventually Tony’s breathing evens out. “Sorry,” he says, and Steve shakes his head.

“Don’t be.”

Tony sniffs, and then pulls back so they can rest their foreheads together. “I love you.” His eyebrows crease. “God, I love you.”

Steve smiles.

_  
_

**Author's Note:**

> here's my [tumblr](http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com/).


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